


600 Years And A Piano

by obikinks



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: Dexter plays piano, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Language, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Swearing, a little bit out of character, and guitar, and violin, irish accent dexter, like.. really angsty, mentioned sex, saracen plays fiddle, they're hopeless tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 14:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18143150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obikinks/pseuds/obikinks
Summary: "Are they going to be okay? They didn't exactly part on good terms last time, I heard.""Dexter and Saracen? They never part on good terms. Never will, so long as they keep denying their feelings for one another.""Wait, what?""You've not noticed? Valkyrie, Dexter and Saracen were practically made for each other. They've been after each other since they first met, and they've ignored it about as long."





	600 Years And A Piano

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in about 2 hours and hasn't been checked or anything so let me know if there's any mistakes.
> 
> Based off my own headcannon that Saracen is oddly amazing at trumpet- specifically swing trumpet. He also knows fiddle and violin. No one knows where he learnt the last two. also that Dexter and skulduggery are trained in classical piano and Dexter is also trained in classical guitar and flamenco guitar   
> Dexter is extremely talented at piano and can play top tier stuff. Chopin or Mozart kinda shit. (I don't know much about piano asides from being about to play 'Concerning Hobits' from Lord Of The Rings, sooo)
> 
> I hope you enjoy this and the structure isn't too confusing   
> thanks :D

Dexter was a good pianist. He was a great pianist, actually.

You name it, he can play it. He was so good, he paid for the majority of his travels by performing for people. Aristocracy, small town pubs, wherever they would take him.

Saracen loved hearing him play. He could, and had on the occasion, happily sat for hours as Dexter got lost in his music. It was how he relaxed. When they were in the war, if they were lucky enough to find a tavern, Dexter would commandeer the piano and play for them all night.

 

When Saracen and Dexter travelled around- just the two of them- they'd take over whole dance halls and play their instruments together. They were a favourite at the Irish dances in America. It was something of an attraction- two native Irishmen playing the sounds of home for the immigrants in America.

 

When they moved in together, they dedicated a whole room to music. Saracen would wake up in the middle of the night to Dexter playing furiously, unable to sleep after another nightmare. He'd gently sneak into the room and pick up an instrument to accompany the tune. In the early days, it was usually a violin- Dexter missed the old balls they'd go to. Missed the waistcoats and twirling girls around the polished floors.

Later on, however, Saracen would pick up the trumpet. Loud, fast and energetic, Dexter could engross himself in the world of swing music. Saracen let him. One night, years after Dexter left him again (another gritty fight they couldn't seem to smooth over) Saracen sat in their old music room, gently touching the keys Dexter used to play for him. They'd been worn down after years of use. Saracen longed for them to play again, longed for the music as much as he longed for its master.

He didn't sleep that night. He played the fiddle until his fingers bled, then, he played a soft, aching trumpet.

He sold the house and its contents the next day. He kept the piano and the fiddle, though. They went into a storage unit he'd bought years ago and never had a reason to use.

He wandered around the globe for a few more years, mostly looking for Dexter- Though he'd never admit it out loud. He slept with whoever wanted him, desperate to get his lost love out of his head.

 

One day, around the mid 60's or so, he stumbled into a bar. He was already drunk, and it was only noon, but he needed to be out. He couldn't be at his hotel any more.

As he waited for his drink to arrive, he heard an old song being played on creaky piano keys. He knew that song. In fact, he knew who wrote it. His heart fluttered and his breath stopped.

He took a cautious glance to the piano in the corner and there he was. Tall, blonde and tanned with his back to the bar. He wondered if he even knew he was here.

A girl wandered over to the piano and sat next to Dexter. He heard their conversation from his seat.

"I didn't know you could play, baby!"

"I picked it up a while back. Out of practise though, that’s for sure" came Dexter's laughing reply. Saracen bit his lip. He still had that Irish lilt.

The rest of the dead men had lost their accents long ago, after travelling and speaking different languages so much, their accents stopped being Irish and became… well, neutral.

But not Dexter. Never Dexter. His accent was always there, bubbling away the end of a sentence. _'Suppose that's what happens when you grow up in County Cork_ ' Saracen thought to himself. The music stopped and Saracen thought Dexter might have noticed him.

He was wrong.

The music stopped because Dexter and the girl were now too busy making out for him to play piano. Saracen felt sick to his stomach and ran out of the bar.

He stopped trying to find Dexter Vex. He stopped going to America at all. In fact, it was another century or so before he did see Dexter.

He turned down the invitation to the Requiem Ball, simply because he knew his heart couldn't stand to see Dexter again, all handsome and dapper in a suit, twirling a girl in his arms again.

 

He should have known Dexter would find him anyhow. There was a knock at his door the afternoon of the Ball. There, right in front of him for the first time in at least 50 years, was Dexter Vex. All handsome and dapper in a suit. Looking nervously at the ground then at the door. Saracen opened it and realised he was still in his pyjamas. Dexter looked up, panicked.

"Dexter." Saracen started, at the same time Dexter said "Hullo-"

They both paused and waited for the other to continue. They spoke again in unison.

"Uh, sorry. You go" Dexter coughed.

Saracen looked at him and frowned "Long time no see." Dexter looked up and gave a nervous smirk, "d'you wanna come in?"

"I uh- sure. Why not"

Saracen lead Dexter through to the dining room and went to put on tea. As he came back, he saw Dexter in the corner of his lounge room. He choked.

He forgot he still had that. "You.... you kept my piano?" Dexter asked, gingerly touching the old keys.

"Yea- uh.. yes. Hope you don't mind"

"Not at all" he replied, still not looking at Saracen. "Do you play it?"

"Me? No, heavens no. I was never very good at piano. Fid-"

"Fiddle was more your style, aye." Dexter finished.

He turned to Saracen and was blown away again by his eyes. He'd always loved Dexter’s eyes.

He swallowed as Dexter walked towards him. "I missed you" was all it took for Saracen to fall into Dexter’s arms again.

"I'm so, so very sorry" was all it took for Dexter to give up his heart to Saracen once again.

Too soon it was time for Dexter to leave for the Ball.

"Won't you come with me?"

"Dex... I- I can't." Dexter’s face dropped.

"Right. Of course. Sorry for.." he waved his arms, "whatever this was. I'll leave you now."

"Dexter wait. You know that's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean, Saracen. Because we can never seem to get past this point. I say I miss you, I give myself up to you again and you say you can't do this again. I don't know what you want me to do. I don't know what you want, Saracen, I just-"

"You."

"What?"

"You. I want you. I've always wanted you."

"You don't mean that"

"I do. I swear, I do, Dexter. I've never wanted anything but you. I've wanted to for years, I want you now. I'll want you until I die."

Dexter stared at him, mouth open. The next thing Saracen knew, he was pinned against his lounge room wall, Dexter's mouth on his neck, moaning. They always ended up like this. Hands in each other's pants, ignoring what they'd have to deal with after this one moment of pure pleasure.

As expected, Dexter left for the Ball alone.

He arrived late and turned to the prettiest girl he could find. He didn't see Saracen again for another 3 years or so.

 

When they did meet up again, it was the same cycle as always. Meet, fuck, ignore their emotions, leave on bad terms.

He invited him to come with them to capture the God-Killers. They fucked when the plane landed. They got on with the job. Saracen fucked Aurora in France and Dexter’s heart shattered once again.

They left with even more unspoken issues.

 

Tanith and Billy-Ray dragged him back home from prison and right back to Saracen. He was handed a bag of new clothes. Valkyrie ogled him and Saracen glared at her. They fucked after that meeting. They got on with the job.

Dexter hit on Valkyrie, she flirted back. That was new to their cycle. Saracen saw red.

 

They had to round up the supercharged sorcerers. They fucked every night they shared a room. They shared a room every night.

 

They arrived at the last battle together. Full of boiling words. Ready to topple over and explode all over one another.

But they kept it undercover.

 

They almost died.

 

One night, in Tanith's London apartment, Saracen woke up to a gentle song played on piano. He wandered in, clad in nothing but his dressing gown and leant against the doorframe.

Dexter was before him, playing a song he'd never heard before. A soft, agonising tune that bubbled through Saracen's veins and tore at his heart. Dexter’s head was low, and Saracen hadn't realised until now that Dexter was crying. He couldn't recall the last time he'd seen Dexter cry. It was silent, but his shoulders shook, and his face was twisted in agony.

Saracen walked over and picked up the guitar Tanith kept. Dexter startled at his playing but didn't stop or say anything.

He kept crying.

They played through the night until Dexter wordlessly stood up and walked to bed. He didn't emerge until 4 in the afternoon. He and Saracen made dinner together. They ate together. They went to their separate beds.

The next morning, Saracen made Dexter breakfast. Dexter didn't have to heart to tell him he'd been up for hours and had already eaten. He didn't have the heart to speak at all, actually.

They played music together all day. They made dinner. They ate together. They went to their separate beds.

Saracen hoped, with every being of himself, that this was the beginning of their life together. Finally. The beginning of their beginning, with no more Wars or denial or hurt to separate them. He hoped that this was the part they healed each other.

 

Their new cycle continued for a month. Then two, then four. Then one night, Dexter crawled into bed with him.

They'd begun talking again about a month ago. Boring things, mostly. The weather, the football (neither of them watched, however, so it was a bit hard to discuss.) never about the past. Never about their past.

Dexter crawled into bed with him and he held him close all night. Refused to let him go again. He was gone when Saracen woke up. He came back, a week later. Said he'd had to go deal with something, but he was back now. And he was all in.

They got drunk together that night for the first time in at least 60 years. They spoke, finally, about them. About what this meant and what was going to happen. Saracen promised he'd be the only person he would love from here on out, but Dexter wasn't drunk enough to believe that yet.

They woke up without hangovers, surprisingly.

 

A year passed and Tanith moved back in. The three of them became a small, close-knit, somewhat dysfunctional family until they decided to travel again. To see the world again, together, this time.

 

They went off grid, Tanith went back to being an assassin.

They heard that Valkyrie was back, that she and skulduggery were back in business. They visited one day, once they finally got a hold of the couple.

Valkyrie greeted them both with hugs and kisses. Skulduggery shook each of their hands. Vex and Saracen were quieter now than they'd ever been in their lives.

They each wore a matching silver band on their fingers, to Skulduggery's relief.

"I'm just glad we won't have to see you two pine after one another anymore." He said.

Valkyrie was more surprised, "I mean… I always suspected but I can't believe you finally got it together! Congratulations!"

Valkyrie and skulduggery took to visiting them every Christmas in their small cottage. Tanith joined them every now and then.

 

They travelled some more, but they never went back to Ireland. It was too painful now. Too much had happened there, and it was no longer home.

Dexter never lost his accent though. It stayed strong and lilting until his death. Saracen stayed by his side until the day he died.

 

They'd lived a good life together. 300 years together and they'd never fallen out of love. They'd finally accepted it and let themselves love. And that was all anyone could ask for, really. 

Saracen played piano at his funeral, and, when he finally met his friends and his lover again in the afterlife, he was the most peaceful he'd ever been.

 

All it took was 600 years and a piano.


End file.
